credits

released March 10, 2016

All songs written and recorded by Awesome Wells, 2015.

All songs mixed and mastered by Awesome Wells with help from The Laundrette.

All music played and songs sung by Awesome Wells except drums on all tracks by Rob Jones; Piano and Organ on Encarabajo and Mrs Hawkins by Dave Koor; Organ and Backing Vocals on The Great Wen by Richard Greenan.

contact / help

sunday morning, birds in the sky, vomit on the pavement. i take one of the longer showers of my week

and you're the king of being sorry, oh so very sorry, for yourself, but wake up, it's a charmed life, hallelujah. and you're like a journalist, you've already decided on a narrative, and you could hold a grudge for england. and you're oh so self-effacing about your charity work yet you maintain your non-dom tax paying status. and you've always fancied that you'd have joined the french resistance but you're not so happy about all these gypsies and these muslims coming here

and the things that you claim to hold most dear are equality and justice for all yet you won't say who you voted for in the last election, how heroically non-partisan of you. and everything you like you like with an ironic veneer, sentimentality makes you sneer, and you want all your friends to think of you as gender-queer, cos maybe then you'd be taken seriously. and when you found out your father was dying the room filled with the smell of chlorine and your lungs filled up with anticipation, you wrote a blog post and put it on the internet and kept track of the likes, oh well you can't help it if you're heartless. can you..

in 2011 i left my love to find another, just spent 3 months of the winter on my back in catalonia, i lost my youth to a month of sundays. but hey man that's ok, i was never that ambitious anyway. except for the time i broke into your facebook account and read through your messages. do you remember the time i broke into that front garden to steal you flowers on new years eve? you asked me for three good reasons why i loved you...

well i was never that good with words

Track Name: Sign Of Growth

it's the funniest thing, how the tarmac pulls the heat in, my bowels lurch at the first taste of nicotine drifting on the starched breeze, reminds me of 1993... jumping on a trampoline, how the canvas pulled the heat in, and my bowels lurched, landing on my back and flopping down beside me a ginger wig, a little girl's screams drifting on the starched breeze

and in summer's childish haze, it seemed july would end again and again

in 1994 on the tv, it could've started in her bones, but i'm not sure - shorn ginger hair, a forlorn grin - but july will end again and again

and in summer's languid haze, it seems july will end again and again

Track Name: Encarabajo

drinking on the caledonian road, you made a motion to the door, i made a beeline for the floor - i never saw you again. and it's a rum old do being in love with you. we met in the dying days of august when london feels like it's in a tupperware box and cranes reach up to the sky like crooked middle fingers, but what's a man to do?

i bought you a rose and you just held your nose

drinking on the train to barcelona, syllables bounce around like ball-bearings scattered on the ground, and after the flood the rain mocks the wet, and the banks mock the rest. in the winter clouds linger round like bored teenagers and afternoons stretch out to kingdom come, but a gin and tonic never failed to turn an evening around, well what's a man to do?

i offered to take your coat and you replied it's too damn cold for all that carry-on.

drinking on the middlesex road under the endless summer rain that soaks you to the bones, buildings wink down coquettishly like glass glittering baubles, and the damp polka-dots the walls, it's beyond satire, it's beyond the fucking pale. still what's a man to do?

sun beams dilly dally in the snow, but sunshine when you know, then you know

Track Name: From Whitechapel To Oaxaca

how this relationship has floundered since you spent that night with your hands down my trousers. i'll meet you at the bottom of the garden and lead you up the path again straight up to my door.

but the sound of your brogues dancing over cobblestones will tip-tap through my mind now and again.

you say you're happy i'm happy that you're happy, smirking at your own tautology. and i'll crawl from whitechapel to oaxaca til i get tried, and i'll love only you until i get bored.

but the sound of your brogues dancing over cobblestones will tip-tap through my mind now and again.

byebyebyebyebyebyebyebybeyyebeybebyebyebyebyebyebeybeybeybe

and there's clearly still a class war that's waged, but don't worry my darling cos you've go class in spades.

Track Name: The Great Wen

you could tell she wasn't from here cos she spoke so well. l's deftly flicked from her lips, r's rolled off of her tongue. but RP's all that's between skivers and royalty. off with their headsssss we're off of our heads.

and it's better to have lost and loved than to have never lost at all. and the left will eat itself as it gets harder to tell between:

this and that
tit or tat
love or loss
tory and libdem

but at least i've still got:

a zero-hours contract
pop-up restaurants
a rented flat
and the trickle-down effect

(off with our heads)

hahhahhhdshhahahahaahahahhahhahahahahahhahhahahahahaahhahahaah

Track Name: Lord Jim

your wrathful smile bend me over backwards, you are my eyes, i bring you blood, you bring me alcohol. and call me with trumpets of thighbones, the sound of shedding skin.

so i'll just let your sighs garrote me like cheese wire, the kisses from your lips burn holes in my eye-lids, when the sun turns to grey and ash falls from the sky, it'll be so hard to leave with you smelling of spring

on a cold april morning you let down your hair
and in your front room i let down my guard
as sunday turned into monday
and the dawn crept up the street
i crept down the stairs
with thoughts of the hairs on your back standing up on end

i'll cut off the heads of all your enemies, wait by the lake as the midges take to the sky circling like f16s and falling to the ground like willow.

on a cold april morning you let down your hair
and in your front room i let down my guard
as sunday turned into monday
and the dawn crept up the street
i crept down the stairs
with thoughts of the hairs on your back standing up on end

Track Name: In It What's In It

take each day at a time
take one thing at a time

Track Name: Yours To A Cinder

loneliness is gonna get me i'm sure
loneliness is gonna kill me i know
loneliness is gonna break down my front door
loneliness is gonna send me all around the world

loneliness is gonna get me i'm sure
loneliness is gonna kill me i know
loneliness is gonna build me a brand new home
loneliness is gonna keep the wolf from the door
loneliness is gonna pay off my student loan
loneliness is gonna iron my clothes
loneliness is gonna laugh at all my jokes
loneliness is gonna get me i know

Track Name: An Awkward Comparison

in the autumn sun we walked around the garden outside of your hospice room, a sort of limbo i wish i could go back to. and you asked me what i had to say, but what formation of words could possibly do justice to you? so we talked about the weather

and as you sleep next to me i hold your hand and count big ben ringing out on the radio, but when there's earthquakes in japan and refugees dying in the sea, how can i complain?

you raised me and you've always helped me so i do what i can, patience is a nurse who smiles when i offer to lend a hand. and you may not always understand why i'm the way that i am, but you've always loved me and that's always been enough.

and as you sleep next to me i hold your hand and count big ben ringing out on the radio, but when there's earthquakes in japan and refugees dying in the sea, how can i complain?